


Timestamp to You Are the One (With Your Finger on the Gun)

by whispered_story



Series: You Are the One [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 20:00:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4759151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whispered_story/pseuds/whispered_story
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's powers go haywire when Dean blows him. Dean is, surprisingly, delighted by the effect he has on Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Timestamp to You Are the One (With Your Finger on the Gun)

Even with Sam slowly but surely gaining control, his powers still go haywire sometimes. Sam's better at keeping his powers in check when he's calm, but sometimes things go wrong on hunts and Sam loses it; it's not ideal, but it's saved their lives more than once so Dean is not complaining. If it means they get to live to see another day, he can live with things getting thrown through the air and exploding left and right.

And then Dean discovers that _he_ can make Sam completely lose control. It happens one afternoon in January – they're snowed in and nothing to do and it's freezing cold, so they spend most of the day in bed. Dean decides to pass the time by kissing and touching every inch of Sam's body, keeping Sam on edge until Sam is writhing and moaning and begging Dean to let him come.

"I was just getting started," Dean teases, words spoken against Sam's belly, and lets his hands run up Sam's thighs, feeling Sam quiver. 

"Please, Dean," Sam whimpers. He rocks his hips up, his cock dragging against Dean's jaw and Dean turns his head to nuzzle it. 

"Hmm, I don't know," he murmurs. He slides his hands onto Sam's hips, pressing them down against the mattress and lowers his head, sucking a mark onto Sam's hipbone. The skin silky smooth and Dean hums under his breath, listening to the hitch in Sam's breath, to the way he's sucking in air raggedly.

He sits back on his haunches and surveys his work for a moment. There's a bright red mark on Sam's hip, and Sam's body is glistening with sweat, chest heaving. He looks absolutely debauched, spread out on dark sheets.

"Dean," Sam groans. "Dean, come on. Please."

Dean chuckles. "Since you asked so nicely," he drawls out. 

He bends down and takes Sam's cock in his mouth, swallowing him down. Sam comes within seconds with a cry, hips eagerly fucking up into Dean's mouth – and then there's an explosion of noise around them that startles Dean so bad he chokes and can barely stop himself from accidentally biting Sam. He pulls away, sits back, coughing and rubbing his watering eyes.

"Jesus," Sam pants.

"What the hell was that?" Dean croaks, looking around to assess the situation. One of his hands is already creeping under the pillow, looking for his gun before his mind catches up to what happened. Their room is a mess – the bedside lamp on the floor in shards, the table and chairs tipped over and clothes and papers scattered across the floor.

"Sam?" he prompts.

Sam meets his eyes, looking as startled as Dean feels, his eyes wide and skin flushed pink. 

"Fuck," Dean mutters. "You almost gave me a heart-attack."

"Sorry," Sam says sheepishly. "But if you hadn't been such a tease—"

"Oh no, this isn't my fault."

Sam gives him a look and Dean huffs.

"Whatever," he mutters and flops down on the mattress, pulling Sam with him. "You're cleaning this up later."

Sam snorts. "You're helping me, asshole," he says, but he presses his nose against Dean's collarbone and softly kisses the skin there. "Sorry."

"'s okay," Dean replies. "Neither of us knew this was gonna happen."

"Totally killed my afterglow," Sam says and Dean can feel his smile against his skin.

"Totally killed my hard-on," he shoots back, and Sam laughs.

"I'm sure I can do something about that," he says. He crawls over Dean's body, kneeling over him and grinning down. His hair is a mess and he's still sweaty and flushed and stupidly gorgeous.

"Hey," Dean murmurs, and reaches up to brush a strand of hair behind Sam's ear. "So, earth-shattering orgasms make your powers blow up, huh? I'm definitely remembering that one."

Sam grimaces. "I kinda hate you."

Dean laughs and rests his hands on Sam's waist, fingers spanning over golden skin. He pulls Sam down and kisses him. "Nah, you don't," he says against Sam's lips.

Sam grumbles something under his breath, but he kisses Dean back and Dean decides to take that as confirmation.


End file.
